There's a lovely blanket of snow outside, so pretty when it first fell. Now it is slush turned to ice, with leaves and gunk and trails of footprints. There's a metaphor in there. Have at it.
Little Punkin has been sent across the Rainbow Bridge on Saturday. She was fine in the morning, her usual obnoxious self. She settled under the throw against my legs after breakfast. I felt her moving, so I lifted the edge of the throw. She seemed to be caught in the blankets, then I realized, her hind legs were not working right. She fell over. I got her cuddled up and contacted Desi, who was working. Des rushed through her dogs, but it was still a couple hours. Punkin didn't seem to be in pain, just confused, unable to stay upright, and when I took her in the kitchen, unable to walk. I gave her her favorite pouch treat, she fell onto it at one point. I cleaned her fur, she kept eating. Turned my back to rinse off my hands and she had dragged herself into the bedroom and onto the bed. How, I have no idea. She cleaned herself, then curled up and fell asleep.
Desi came, and put Punkin in to the kennel. Punkin was not amused. We went to the emergency vet in the old McGrath's Fish House instead of the awful one which is a little closer. They had a pleasant room with a comfy couch. Lots of forms, so many forms, and a credit card.
"Do you want to be present?" Want, WANT? No, I do not want to be here at all. What popped out of my mouth was, "If I can do it for my husband, I can do it for this cat". Rather raw, but my whole life has ragged edges now. I am not easy to be around, I am prickly like a cactus, or some odd fruit grown on a thorny tree.
Punkin sat with me, leaving only to get the IV. She was growling and snipping when they brought her back, but I couldn't blame her. She settled in against my hip. The vet came in and we talked, he gave her the first injection and she fell right asleep. Another, and she was gone. At least it was easy and I was with her.
I did not choose individual cremations and a little box with her ashes. I have too many urns in the house, and no one to bury her for me. So she will be with the other animals, and they actually take those ashes up to the mountains and scatter them. Dust to dust.
People say she is with Larry now. That's a sweet thought, so I shall let it stand. Farewell, little Death Kitty.
Another week of 2018. Just fucking stop, okay?
Little Punkin has been sent across the Rainbow Bridge on Saturday. She was fine in the morning, her usual obnoxious self. She settled under the throw against my legs after breakfast. I felt her moving, so I lifted the edge of the throw. She seemed to be caught in the blankets, then I realized, her hind legs were not working right. She fell over. I got her cuddled up and contacted Desi, who was working. Des rushed through her dogs, but it was still a couple hours. Punkin didn't seem to be in pain, just confused, unable to stay upright, and when I took her in the kitchen, unable to walk. I gave her her favorite pouch treat, she fell onto it at one point. I cleaned her fur, she kept eating. Turned my back to rinse off my hands and she had dragged herself into the bedroom and onto the bed. How, I have no idea. She cleaned herself, then curled up and fell asleep.
Desi came, and put Punkin in to the kennel. Punkin was not amused. We went to the emergency vet in the old McGrath's Fish House instead of the awful one which is a little closer. They had a pleasant room with a comfy couch. Lots of forms, so many forms, and a credit card.
"Do you want to be present?" Want, WANT? No, I do not want to be here at all. What popped out of my mouth was, "If I can do it for my husband, I can do it for this cat". Rather raw, but my whole life has ragged edges now. I am not easy to be around, I am prickly like a cactus, or some odd fruit grown on a thorny tree.
Punkin sat with me, leaving only to get the IV. She was growling and snipping when they brought her back, but I couldn't blame her. She settled in against my hip. The vet came in and we talked, he gave her the first injection and she fell right asleep. Another, and she was gone. At least it was easy and I was with her.
I did not choose individual cremations and a little box with her ashes. I have too many urns in the house, and no one to bury her for me. So she will be with the other animals, and they actually take those ashes up to the mountains and scatter them. Dust to dust.
People say she is with Larry now. That's a sweet thought, so I shall let it stand. Farewell, little Death Kitty.
Another week of 2018. Just fucking stop, okay?
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